


The Golden Hour

by DisappointMe



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Domestic fluff., Fluff, M/M, Seriously. So much fluff., Which is like the most offensive kind.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisappointMe/pseuds/DisappointMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zachary Quinto does not cuddle. Chris investigates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golden Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Pinto Fic/LJ.

Zachary Quinto does not cuddle.

This was a fact that Chris had come to terms with and had learned to (mostly) not be offended by. Even if the timing of this discovery had been rather unfortunate, to say the least. 

They had acknowledged their attraction to each other fairly early on in their friendship. Zach had openly admitted that the sexiness of Chris‘ hands couldn‘t -- and shouldn‘t -- be ignored, and Chris had no qualms about singing the praises of Zach‘s perfectly bow-shaped mouth. It never went beyond that casual flirtation, though. They’d never gone on a date, never even discussed the possibility of it, and it took almost a full year for that paradigm to shift. One minute they were on Zach’s couch in the midst of heated debate in which Chris told Zach to stop obfuscating and Zach condescendingly dared Chris to be less obtuse, the next minute they were making out like horny teenagers. Then they were on Zach’s bed, half naked and feeling each other up quite thoroughly. Then they were completely naked and fucking _very_ thoroughly.

A couple of orgasms later and Zach was lying at Chris’ side panting and smiling, so Chris smiled back and rolled next to him, curling up to his side and slinging an arm across his chest. Chris hadn’t even gotten out the customary, “That was amazing” before Zach was bolting out of the bed and rushing into the bathroom. Confused, Chris had waited for Zach to return so that they could either snuggle up and go to sleep or have a capital-T Talk about it. But when Zach came back into the room he was still smiling like he‘d won the sexual lottery, so Chris assumed it would be the former. Instead, Zach leaned over, cupped Chris’ chin in his hands and kissed him, putting so much of himself into that kiss that Chris was almost certain he could taste his soul. With a shy smile and dark eyes looking up through long eyelashes, he then asked Chris to please stay the night with him. When Chris said he absolutely would, Zach flopped down, scooted away and turned his back on a very bemused, slightly miffed Chris.

Contrarily, Chris Pine was a cuddler.

Cuddling, snuggling, spooning, forking, bear hugs, whatever -- Chris loved it. The more haptic, the better in his opinion. Frankly, if he could go all octopus and wrap his entire body around Zach, he would. Indubitably. Except that Zach would sooner gnaw off one of his own limbs rather than suffer through _that_ for more than six seconds. And Chris held each one of Zach’s limbs in considerably high esteem, so he spared them all the trauma of it.

It was rough for him, navigating the murky waters of what kind of touch was Okay and what kind of touch was Not Okay with Zach. There was no arguing that Zach was a bit neurotic, but this brought it to a completely different level. Nevertheless, Chris really, _really_ liked Zach so he was willing to figure it all out if it meant he could always get Zach to do that magical thing with his tongue. As it turned out, Zach Quinto, The Friend did not operate by the same rules as Zach Quinto, Chris Pine’s Someday Husband. Zach The Friend was perfectly fine with hugging, knee pats, casual touching, and the occasional hand squeeze. The Future Mr. Chris Pine 2.0 was most definitely Not Okay with any of that nonsense.

Which bummed Chris out if he was being honest, but again he’d rather be the one Zach couldn’t keep his hands off when they were alone together than be the one he gave a hug to in passing. So he heeded the all-too-nebulous Rules of Sleeping With Zach.

After-Sex Spooning: Never okay. Chris was allowed a very small window of post-orgasmic time to cling to Zach like a life preserver, and that was it. This window was generally sixty to ninety seconds. Sixty seconds for general Hot Sex, and ninety seconds for Bone Melting Orgasm Hot Sex. In reality, it wasn’t that long. Certainly not long enough to satisfy Chris’ innate need for post-sex, skin-to-skin intimacy. Sure, Zach kissed him like it was the last time they ever would, told him he loved him so earnestly that it was borderline RomCom Sappy, but then he’d roll over and give the Do Not Touch signal. So Chris would roll over, too, and pretend that he didn’t want to smother Zach with a pillow. Just a little bit.

Random Full-Bodied Hugging: Only okay during the act of kissing. If Chris came up to Zach and slipped his arms around him for no apparent reason, Zach would pull a Houdini and barrel roll of his grasp so slickly it was like his skin was coated in Crisco. If they were kissing, though, Zach would wrap his arms around Chris’ waist, pull him close and hold him like never planned to let go. Which he did, as soon as his tongue was back in his own mouth. Needless to say, Chris made sure they kissed a lot because the feel of Zach’s body against his own was the very definition of perfection.

Hand Holding: Maybe if Chris was dying, but that’s about it. Chris was certain the reason they would never be outed was due to Zach’s aversion to physical affection. It wasn’t going to _accidentally_ happen in public because it didn’t _purposely_ happen in private -- which was a large chunk of Zach‘s reasoning, or how he rationalized it, anyway. Once, when they were driving to the set, he tried to hold Zach’s hand in the car. Without looking away from the road, Zach had smiled, squeezed Chris’ hand, then let go, placing his own back on the wheel so that Chris didn‘t have access to it anymore. Seeing Zach so gleefully hold Zoë’s hand at the Berlin premiere only made him seethe with all-consuming ire and jealousy for, like, two hours. And six months. 

Snuggling: Mostly no, circumstantially yes. If they were on the couch watching a movie or something, he couldn’t lean into Zach or wrap his arms around him to pull him close. As much as Chris always wanted to, that didn’t happen. But it _was_ okay for Chris to lay his head in Zach’s lap and more times than not, Zach would run his fingers across his neck and into his hair, allow his fingers to glide across Chris’ temples, over his cheek bones, along the length of his jaw, and under his chin. This was probably because ninety-four percent of the time, this position ended in blowjobs and/or super hot couch sex, both of which Zach was a most ardent fan. Which mostly explained why he submitted to such tortures. Then there was public snuggling. If Chris wrapped his arm around Zach, patted his leg, rubbed his neck, pulled him a little too close in pictures, Zach stiffened but let it slide. This, of course, was something Chris took advantage of at every possible opportunity, much to Zach’s dismay.

Fortunately for Chris, there was another member of the Quinto household who didn‘t get his panties in a bunch whenever Chris made his affection known. So, on those cold, lonely nights when all Chris wanted to do was spoon, Chris opened the bedroom door, beckoned Noah in, and let him sleep in the bed with them. If he was really gentle and didn’t hang on too tightly, Noah would even let Chris throw an arm around him. Far from his first choice (though possibly equally hairy), but he would do in a pinch. When Zach griped about dog hair in the bed in the morning, Chris gently reminded him that Noah never made him feel like a two-dollar street whore. Zach would generally shut his big, stupid mouth after that.

Then, Chris discovered that there might be a loophole. Perhaps a silver lining amongst the gray clouds of Zach Has Strange, Strange Foibles (And Chris Hates Them).

Chris had been rudely awakened by the clumsy shifting of Zach’s morning ineptitude as he gracelessly stumbled out of bed and headed into the bathroom. It wasn’t uncommon, and Chris usually slept through it, but the clocks had just changed back and the sun was creeping in through the blinds. Chris groaned and looked at the clock on the night stand. It twenty to seven and there was little chance he was going to ever get back to sleep, so he blinked against the intruding light, eyes burning in their sockets, and sighed. The bathroom door opened and Zach shuffled back into the room, crawling into the bed and rolling over so he was facing Chris.

Their eyes locked in the dimness of the room and Zach frowned, reaching across to brush his fingers along the back of Chris’ neck. His eyes were a little bloodshot, bleary, but when he smiled slightly, they lit up from within. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

If Zach’s fingers weren’t locked around the back of his neck, he was sure he would have recoiled so far he would have flown right out of bed. His brows furrowed seemingly of their own accord and he mouthed the word, _baby?_ as if he didn’t understand its meaning. He was torn between two actions: one, looking around the room for the third person to whom Zach must be referring because Zach _did not_ call him “baby.” Two, being really fucking offended that Zach clearly didn’t know who he was in bed with because _Zach did not call him “baby.”_ Though he didn’t get a chance to respond because Zach totally went for the ten on the shock scale after that, stunning Chris into near paralysis.

“C’mere,” Zach crooned, simultaneously pulling Chris closer to himself and shuffling over so they were in the center of the bed. His leg slid easily between Chris’ and he wrapped his hands around Chris’ back, shifting them so that Zach was on his back and Chris was flung on top of him. One of Zach’s hands ghosted across Chris’ bare shoulder blades while the other reached up into his hair to run his fingers through it. Zach sighed contentedly. Chris flopped across his body like a very baffled, very dead fish. He laid there without moving an inch, wondering, maybe, if this was the product of his snuggle-starved imagination. But then Zach’s lips were on his forehead and it was like he could suddenly feel the heat of Zach’s body beneath is own, burning into his skin. Definitely not imaginary.

“You okay?” Zach murmured, lips still touching Chris.

“Yeah,” Chris said, closing his eyes and smiling. He wrapped his arms around Zach, fingers curling against the skin of his ribs. He could feel the steady _thudthudthud_ of Zach’s calm heartbeat against his ribcage, the rush of air filling his lungs as he inhaled, the gentle contraction of his diaphragm as he exhaled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He didn’t attempt to adjust his television set; it didn’t matter that this was obviously the Twilight Zone. Zachary Quinto, his Zachary Quinto who most vehemently did not cuddle, was cuddling. With him. And it was awesome.

Thinking that he had maybe breached the final barrier of Zach’s apparent physical intimacy issues, Chris attempted a Sneak Snuggle Attack while Zach was making himself breakfast. Equal parts surprisingly and unsurprisingly, Zach stiffened, laughed a little and did that magic maneuver where it seemed like he was leaning into the touch, when really he was just giving himself enough space to slip out and around Chris. The well-practiced maneuver was successful, and with a lingering peck to Chris‘ cheek, Zach was zooming past him and over to the table. 

He tried a similar move at dinner which yielded similar results.

Chris waited a few days before trying it again. This time, he was smarter about it. The last (and only) cuddling session had happened in bed, so Chris waited -- he waited until after the supremely hot sex, waited until they were both settled in bed, waited until Zach kissed him goodnight, waited until Zach had been asleep for nearly an hour before he made his move. He inched closer, then stopped. Closer still, then stopped. Closer again, until finally he had Zach in perfect Little Spoon position. Slowly, he reached his arm up and over so that his hand was flat against Zach’s stomach and he clung, sighing softly to himself as he laid his head behind Zach’s on the pillow.

He had achieved maybe a full minute of spooning before Zach’s tired voice cut through the quiet of the room, patient but a warning, “ _Chris_.”

“ _Zach_.” He couldn’t keep the whine out even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He huffed and rolled onto his back as Zach scooted away and he was going to cross his arms over his chest and huff some more to fully express his disgruntlement, but then Zach was hovering over him. All wide-eyed, white teeth standing out as he smiled, those lean, toned, fucking _sexy_ arms keeping him perched above Chris’ body…There was something Chris was supposed to be cranky about but he was momentarily drawing a blank.

Zach held himself up with one arm as he brushed his fingers along Chris’ cheek, then rubbed circles along his jaw. He dropped his head and kissed him, sweet and tender before pulling back to murmur in his ear, “You know how much I love you, don’t you?”

God! How was he supposed to stay pissy when Zach was being so _hot_ and using that _voice_? Chris sighed resignedly and tipped his head to kiss Zach again.

Fingers danced along his jaw and he could just make out the warmth of Zach’s eyes in the moonlit room, “Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” He admitted begrudgingly, the whine still dragging out his words. Somehow it felt like conceding defeat. Probably because it _was_ conceding defeat. 

Zach’s chuckle was a low rumble in his chest that Chris felt in his own body, even though the only part of Zach that was touching him was his hand. He leaned down and nipped at Chris’ earlobe playfully before saying, “Good. Because I do. So, so much.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Chris grumbled as Zach laid back down beside him.

If Chris _accidentally_ elbowed him in the side as resumed his Opposite Side Of The Bed Exile, well. They both knew Zach deserved it.

He didn’t exactly give up on his quest for more cuddles. He was simply reassessing the situation because there was no way that Zach would just arbitrarily decide he wanted to be a super affectionate snuggle bunny and then revert to his stupid _ways_. Zach didn’t arbitrarily decide anything. There had to be something that made it happen and Chris needed to find out what the heck that was so he could make it happen again (and again and again) because for someone who never did it, Zach was a stellar cuddler. Star Trek vocabulary be damned: there were no freak anomalies! There was something about that morning that made Zach want to snuggle, and Chris felt like it was life‘s calling to find out what the heck that was. 

His big break didn’t come until nearly two months after the initial incident.

Chris was startled awake by the sound of Zach’s voice ringing out in the room, “Noah! Stop it!”

Chris groaned and pulled the covers over his head, already knowing what was coming next. Noah was quiet for a few minutes before the scratching and whining started in earnest. He sighed.

“Please,” Zach said sweetly. “Please, please, please. _Please._ “

He flung the covers back from off his head and turned to glare at Zach who was trying to bite back his smile and failing miserably. “I told you. Like I tell you every time, Zach. You have to let him out right before we go to bed -- right before -- otherwise this happens. Not like you care because I’m always the one who gets up to take him out. It’s never you. Fuck, most of the time you don‘t even wake up or you fake it -- you do, don’t you? -- and I have to get up because I‘m the one with the soul who can‘t listen to _your_ ‘perfect little gentleman’ whine and be pathetic all morning. You both just know I‘m a sucker.”

“You’re the best,” Zach said sleepily. “You are.”

Heaving a way-too-heavy-for-so-early-in-the-morning sigh, Chris sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on his boxers, rifled through the drawer for some sweats, slid on a pair of Zach’s stupid flip flops and stumbled to the bedroom door. When he opened it, Noah was so excited that all he could do was spin in circles. Chris had to nudge him with his knee to get him to move so he could walk past him. 

The problem with letting the dog out was the fact that Zach’s house was nestled at the base of the hill and animals bigger and hairier and more predatory than Noah occasionally found their way into the back yard. If Noah went out by himself, he’d see fellow furry friends, but his friends would see dinner. And they’d be right. And he and Zach would be really sad.

Of course Noah being Noah had to sniff every little thing in the yard to make sure it hadn’t changed since he was last out there. Then he had to audition each spot to see which one was worthy enough for his still-too-early-in-the-morning doggie pee. By the time he finally went, Chris felt like they’d been outside for a half hour, which was probably true. 

He kicked his shoes off by the door and stomped back into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He smirked when Zach’s eyes shot open at the noise because _good_ , if Chris had to be awake at this hour, Zach should have to be, too. He didn’t bother pulling off the sweats as he yanked the covers back and flopped down into bed, moving as much as possible. 

He huffed and he puffed and he most definitely was _not_ blowing anything today, even if Zach did look completely delectable smiling softly and looking at him with those warm, sleepy brown eyes.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby. You’re a God amongst men.”

Chris rolled his eyes, “Yeah, sure -- ”

Wait. Baby? The last time Zach called him that was the morning of CuddleGate. Baby equals cuddling, or at least it did the one other time he’d been called that.

Slowly, Chris reached out and rubbed his hand down Zach’s side. Zach blinked for a long moment, a smile slowly spreading across his face, murmuring something that sounded like, “that‘s nice.” So Chris shifted closer, slotting their legs together, moving his hand from Zach’s waist around to the small of his back. When they were chest to chest, Zach tucked his head into the crook of Chris’ neck, dropping a soft kiss at his pulse point before nuzzling in and wrapping his arms around him.

Chris’ smile was so wide it made the muscles in his face burn. CuddleGate: Redux was underway! 

He was tracing patterns along Zach’s skin, automatically pressing little kisses into his hair, basking in the small contented noises the other man was making, but his brain was doing back flips to try to figure out what it was that brought out the closet snuggler in Zach. Then, the alarm clock caught his eye: ten minutes to seven. Last time it was twenty till. 

“The time!” Chris shouted as it hit him. “It’s the time!”

Zach jumped in his arms and pulled back to look at him, “What time?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Chris said, kissing Zach’s lips and then forcing him back into his previous position lest he change his mind. Zach hummed and settled back into Chris’ arms, his foot sliding up and down Chris’ calf for a minute before he drifted back to sleep.

Chris was basking in his ultimate triumph over Zach and his stupid _ways_ , wondering how long it would take for Zach to come to his senses and push him away again. Instead of going back to sleep like he so desperately wanted to, he stayed awake to see exactly how much time he could squeeze out of this. It took exactly one hour and six minutes for Zach to start pulling away, mumbling that Chris needed to stop clinging, even though it was Zach who was reluctantly sliding away. He couldn’t even get mad about that because they had just had an hour of uninterrupted cuddling. There was no way Chris was going back to sleep. He was too excited to sleep. Fuck sleep. He _cuddled_.

So he got up and made pancakes. And when he woke Zach up with a blowjob and brought him breakfast in bed, Zach didn’t ask why, which told Chris he was well aware of what dirty deed they’d practiced earlier that morning. He didn’t mention it though, and Chris found he could live with that.

He waited a whole week before putting his time theory to the test. He set the alarm on his phone for six-forty in the morning, set it to vibrate, rolled over and fell asleep with a smile on his face. He was quick to shut off the alarm when it went off in the morning and he promptly rolled over to see if Zach was still asleep. Finding that he was, Chris decided that the easiest cover was a noisy trip to the bathroom. He clambered out of bed, Dinosaur Stomped to the bathroom, closed the door too loudly, lifted the lid with a bang, slammed it shut with another bang, knocked the soap into the basin, flung the door against wall when he opened it, and clomped back into the bedroom. Zach was lying on his back, blinking up at Chris, eyes pink and unfocused in the early morning light.

“Everything okay?” He mumbled. Or at least that’s what Chris thought he asked because it sounded more like garbled consonants than anything else.

“Tripped,” Chris said with a shrug, sliding back under the covers and not wasting any time in wrapping himself around Zach. He hooked one of his legs over Zach’s, rested his head on his chest and curled his fingers around his side. Zach wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head, smoothing his fingers through Chris‘ hair.

“Ah.”

Chris smiled and tilted his head so he could kiss the tip of Zach’s chin before settling back down. 

 

 

So it turned out that Chris had been wrong about Zach. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a cuddler, it was that he was a secret cuddler. A closet cuddler, even, keeping it way on the down low. As long as Chris didn’t mention it or didn’t wake them up at quarter to seven every single day, Zach was okay with letting Chris take advantage of the fact that for one hour a day, too early in the morning, he was just as sentimental, snuggly, and cuddle-starved as Chris, just way in denial about it. It took some slamming around, a hint of tossing and turning, and a time or two of blaming the dog, but Chris figured out how to get what he wanted pretty regularly. And if Zach managed to sleep through his antics sometimes, well, Chris figured out how to deal with that, too.

 

 

Zach sat straight up with a yelp, accidentally kneeing Chris in the thigh as all of his long limbs seemed to flail at once.

“Whoa there,” Chris grumbled, clutching his tender leg and turning amused eyes on Zach. 

Zach rubbed at his eyes and looked around the room, gaze finally settling back on Chris. It took him a minute to get his bearings before he yawned, then slid back down, rolling into Chris’ outstretched arms, kissing the hollow of his throat. “I had a funny dream.”

“Oh?” Chris asked, sliding his hands up and down Zach’s back, smiling when Zach murmured his contentment.

“Yeah. I dreamed your phone rang and then you pinched me.” Zach chucked and shook his head a bit as if he couldn’t believe the absurdity of such a thing. “But it was so real. I think I‘ve actually had that dream before. It‘s weird.”

“Hmm,” Chris murmured, fingers ghosting over the little pink mark on Zach’s side, hoping it would be gone before Zach noticed it, “How ‘bout that.”


End file.
